


Trial and Error

by Clock_Shock



Category: 17th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gwash is best dad, Historical Inaccuracy, Howe's an aaaaaass, Hurt/Comfort, I...forgot Howe was a redcoat, Laf is new dad, M/M, Martha is mom to the max, So um yeah, much too late, oliver is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-11-20 15:58:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11338683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clock_Shock/pseuds/Clock_Shock
Summary: *Warning: I can't summarize to save my life*Oliver had been on the streets for... well, a long while. With his parents and caretaker passed, he resorted to walking the dirt roads aimlessly, asking for spare change and food. That was, until one day, a tall man with a sword and thick accent found him. What will this man do to him?The real question is, what will the man do to protect him?-----Or, Lafayette breaks some rules, some connections, and his mind to protect his petit renard.





	1. Finders Keepers

**Author's Note:**

> Lee and Howe swapped places in this cuz I wasn't paying attention. This was written with the help of a friend, but she doesn't have ao3 so...  
> \\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> That aside, hope enjoy some good ol' historical innaccuracies!

Lafayette walked through the town with eyes full of wonder. Manhattan wasn’t the biggest town he had seen, for France had much much larger cities, but it was the biggest he’s seen in America. Sure, some streets were more run down but- Wait… “Hello?” he called into the alleyway, swearing he saw a person.

The smaller boy quickly jumped behind a crate and hugged his legs close, keeping quiet, but his shuffling gave him away.

Lafayette started to pull out his sword, “Who’s there? Come out here!” He said with a snap. In his mind, he was almost sure it was a red coat, but in his heart he felt a gentler soul’s presence.

The small boy quivered, slowly looking around the crate as he started up at the man in sheer terror. "P...please sir.. I-I didn't m..mean any h-harm.." He stammered, a tear falling down his slightly dirty cheek.

He put his partially drawn sword back in its sheath and cautiously made his way towards the child, “Mon dieu, I-I am so sorry.” Lafayette knelt down by the child, “Are you alright?”

The smaller child whimpered and curled into a ball, trying to make himself smaller against the crate and gave a light cough. "J-Just fine sir..." He croaked.

"Now, where will lying get us?" He knew better than to touch the fragile boy without consent, so he just sat down.

The boy didn't answer him, only trying to turn away from the man and try to disappear in his dirty worn coat that didn't nearly fit him. Because Lafayette was not wearing a British uniform, he was a little bit more comfortable. They were always so mean and hurtful when he asked them for spare change or some food.

Oliver tensed slightly. Since when did an adult want to help him? The smaller boy slowly rubbed his sore hands together and glanced at him. "P-Please go, sir...you look like an important man.." He said, eyeing his uniform. "You shouldn't be seen with me.." He mumbled hesitantly.

"The importance here is to protect a person," in turn, he eyed the boy's clothes. "One of my best friend's is a tailor and we have plenty of rations at our camp. Would you like to come with me? S'il vous plait?" He didn't even realize he had slipped into his native tongue as he stood and held out his hand for the child.

He slowly looked up at him, and didn't move. Could he trust this man? He seemed nice..and he was offering him new clothes and food. The boy took the man's hand, and slowly stood up, keeping his head low and his other hand was stuffed into his jacket pocket.

His stomach tightened when he saw how thin the boy was and how ragged his clothes were. It reminded him of some of the friends he had as a boy... He remembered jumping on rooftops and causing mischief everywhere... Lafayette shook away the memory to focus on the present. He began to lead the boy towards his horse, but paused. "Hey, how do you normally get around town?"

Oliver followed him slowly and tried not to lag because he didn't want to upset the officer. He was really tired, mostly because he had No energy. "...I walk, sir," he mumbled softly, staying behind the taller man to keep away from the horse.

"Tonnerre won't bite, we can ride him to the shop if you like," he gave a reassuring smile, "Right Tonnerre?" He petted the horse's mane. "With all my years with horses, which I will admit it isn't the most, I haven't seen a horse hurt anyone... unlesstheriderfallsoff but I'll be on there with you!"

The boy watched the horse carefully, but had a feeling he could trust this officer. If he was okay with the horse… then Oliver could. He gave a slow nod to the taller man, but kept a grip on his hand.

"Perfect! Let me just get you up there..." Cautiously, he bent down to lift the boy onto the horse.

He was a little hesitant as the man’s hands went near him, but he slowly relaxed as he was on the horse. Olivers eyes went wide as he looked around. He never had felt so tall before. He was over most of the adults, watching them go about their daily life. He lightly sniffled then sneezed, which made his chest clench and he winced.

"Bless you," he offer a handkerchief, "I just remembered, we can't go see my friend until dark, because he's a spy for our side, so there will be redcoats there. We wouldn't want to blow his cover, now would we?"

Oliver took the handkerchief from him and gently wiped his nose then gave it back to him, still looking around them and gave a slow nod at him. "Sir, yes sir."

“Please, call me Lafayette,” he paused, “not like laugh. Er- well pronounced lik- Oh forget it! What’s your name?” He asked as he sat on the horse as well.

"L..af…" He said slowly, memorizing the name and then shuffled back on the horse to give Laf some room. "Oliver, sir..." He mumbled shyly.

"Well Oliver," he moved so the boy sat in front, "I have a feeling you've never been on a horse, and I'd rather not let you fall off." Lafayette chuckled lightly then put his hand on Oliver's head. It seemed like he was ruffling his hair, but at the same time he slipped a few fingers a little lower to feel his forehead. Warm, just like he figured, "Are you ready for us to start moving?"

He shifted a little on the saddle to get comfortable after Lafayette moved him. Oliver played with the leather of the reigns, not really paying attention to the contact of the other man. "Yes sir." He said politely, keeping close to him.

"Alright then," he gave Tonnerre a gentle kick in the side and the horse began to trot forward. Trusting his horse, he bent down into the saddle bag to pull out his cloak and wrap it around Oliver, "It'll get cold as dusk comes, best to stay warm."

Oliver blinked when the cloak went around him and stared down at it, touching the soft and thick material and snuggled into it with a faint smile. "Thank you sir," he said under his breath and leaned against the man, almost disappearing into the cloak.

The horse moved a little faster after a while, and Lafayette could see the camp in the distance. "When we get close to the camp, you need to stay hidden in the cloak, d'accord?"

"Why-" he started to say but kept his mouth shut and just nodded. "Yes sir." He bundled into the cloak a little more.

He noticed the boy's confusion, "Because they won't allow you at camp because of your age. And there is no way I'm letting you stay on the street."

Oliver gave a slow nod, looking all around at the buildings, but kept his eyes forward.

"We're almost there," the horse slowed down, "so stay quiet." He whispered as he rode the horse towards the stable.

Oliver nodded and stayed quiet as they went in, hiding under the cloak a little more, pulling it over his head and watched the soldiers go by.

With only mild difficulty, he carried Oliver and his bag to his tent. "Ok, we have arrived!" he proclaimed, but then spoke quieter, "You can come out."

Oliver crawled out from underneath the cloak and looked around, and seeing all the papers on the desk, and crawled onto the chair and looked at all of them. He always wanted to learn to read, but he could read a few things here and there.

"Those are letters from my wife and battle strategies," he explained, placing his hand on the back of the chair.

Oliver looked over the map that was under all the letters and correspondents. He never really saw a map before, and tried to figure out which place they were at.

He laughed at his curiosity, but noticed the sun was setting. "I'm going to go get you some food. Don't leave and don't let anyone hear you. Understand?"

Oliver nodded. "Yes sir." He said, ruffling his hair a little and went back to the map, and read all the towns names, and played with the different markers.

-

Lafayette entered the large tent and made his way to the line. A large hand was clapped on his shoulder, "Well well well... The commander's pet waltzed in a little late, wouldn't you say?"

"Bonsoir, General Howe..." His tone was unusually cold.

Howe (Hoe) had a curt smile as he got his food and went to sit down, but then he paused and turned back to Lafayette. "Are those plans finished yet? You know, for someone with so much free time to use in the city, I expect them to be flawless."

Lafayette just narrowed his eyes and a low growl slipped from him, but didn't respond and instead turned to get his food.

Howe just rolled his eyes with the same curt smile and walked off to his tent. He never did like eating with the soldiers.

Lafayette grab his food and left the tent as well, heading back to his. His mood lightened again when he remembered the boy in his tent. "Oliver?" he called softly as he walked in.

Oliver quickly ducked under the desk, scared that it was someone else, but when he saw the familiar face he slowly crawled out.

"Sorry for scaring you, buuuuut I brought food!" He held up the tray with a smile.

Oliver's eyes went wide at the tray and he tried to see over it bouncing a little on his toes.

"Here," Lafayette moved the papers onto his cot and placed the tray on the desk.

Oliver scrambled onto the chair and ate the good, but slowly. Yes, he was starving, but he'd be gracious enough to just take it slow. Besides, eating fast would just upset your stomach.

Lafayette watched him eat, even though it felt a little creepy, but he had never felt so glad to see a person eat. The boy was eating well, and couldn't help but tear up at the thought of the last time Oliver may have ate.

Oliver’s mind was only focused on the food. As it was gone in a matter of a few moments, he paused, wanting more. But that was selfish, so he didn't say anything.

"There'll be breakfast in the morning, and you seem tired." He put the papers back on the desk to make room on the cot. "And I mean- It's not like I've never slept in a chair before."

He watched him walk around. "Sir...I can sleep o-on the ground.." he offered, shaking his head at the bed.

"Are you questioning my ability to be a gentleman?" He didn't wait for an answer, and instead lifted the concerningly light boy then placing Oliver on the bed.

He hung his head a little at the question, but let him be picked up, liking his warm hands and then was sat down in the bed. "I just don't want to be a burden sir.." He mumbled meekly.

This boy was going to make him cry. "Non non non- Quite the opposite," he hugged Oliver, "I'm quite glad to have some company and I just want to make sure you are well."

Oliver tensed slightly in the hug, not sure what Lafayette was doing. He kept still, with a small nod. "Thank you kindly, sir.." He said quietly.

"Now get some rest," he laid him down and put the blanket over him, "I have to go into town for something, and no one will come in the middle of the night, but..." He walked over to his desk and crouched down. With his sword, he cut the fabric in half so it could be opened like tent flaps. "If someone does come, just crawl outside and wait behind the tent until they leave. If they find you, run down the hill over the stream, and hide in a tree until I come back... Did you get all that?"

"Yes sir." He responded with a nod, slowly laying down and shifted a little, finding it not that hard to get used to. "Sir..?" He called softly.

"Oui?" He put his hat on and turned to face him.

"Merci..beaucoup..." He whispered tiredly, and was instantly asleep.

Lafayette froze. French? He wasn't expecting that. Pushing those thoughts aside for later, he crept towards the stables to ride back to town to see Hercules.

-

Hercules was hanging out with John in the tailor parlor, joking around and having a beer that was stored out back.

"Herc? Hercules?" He called stepping into the parlor with his blue coat off and masking his accent in case of redcoats.

There were lights coming from a side room, and out came a slightly drunken John Laurens. "Heey, Laf!" He slightly slurred as he walked to him with a sloppy hug.

"Hello John," he grunted under the weight John was putting on him and switched back to his natural accent, "How much did he drink?" He asked Hercules from behind.

Hercules looked a little more sober. "Eh, not too much." He shrugged, taking the beer cup from John and he groaned loudly.

"Geez Herc, you always spoil the fun!" He pouted, still hanging on Laf and Herc just flipped him off, mostly upset because John was drinking his beer stash and John stuck his tongue out at him. "Soo, what brings the Marquis here?"

"I... kind of... maybe... broughtakidtocampandI'mhidinghimbutheneedsnewclothes?"

Hercules came back in and froze at the sudden outburst and blinked. "So… what?" They both asked him, absolutely confused.

"I just uh- I need clothes for a boy like.... this high?" He held his hand out, palm down, and put it a little lower than his hip.

Hercules arched a eyebrow and tilted his head. "And..why?" He asked.

"Pfft- haven't you been paying attention? He needs them because he has this little kid with him, idiot!"

"H-how did you know that?!" Lafayette stammered, caught off guard.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm a lot smarter when I had a little pint," he snickered. "Besides, that's what you were ramblin’ about earlier!"

"...You actually understood that?" He twirled his finger around the fabric of the end of his coat nervously.

"Yeeep!" He slurred and hiccuped with a small laugh and nearly fell over but Herc got him a chair. "So you need clothes for a kid that small? Sure, I think I got some stuff in the back that'll fit him. Why are you getting these anyways?"

"He's in rags," he stated bluntly, pulling out the pouch of money from his pocket. "And I'm not leaving him like that."

He just put up his hands in defense. "Hey, didn't even know the kid was homeless, man. Oh and, it's on me," he said, waving his hand dismissively at the money, and left to go into back.

"What? Do you think I stole someone's kid?" Lafayette reply with a huff.

"Yes," John snorted with a snicker as he was shifting around in his chair.

"Do you need them now?" Hercules called out.

"Yes please… Thank you for this, Herc." He shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"No prob, man. Keep an eye on John though, he'll probably hurt himself," Herc grumbled from the back.

"I can't deny that," he said as he guided John away from yet another beer bottle.

He whined and slumped into his chair. "You guys are the worst..." He muttered, swaying a little.

"You're drunk enough already," Lafayette responded.

"Pfft am not." He huffed. "I only had 3 drinks! 5 times," he snickered and nearly fell over in his chair.

Herc came back with a small pair of trousers and a button down shirt with a small vest. "You're in luck Laf, found these."

He sighed in relief and held John so he wouldn't fall. "Merci beaucoup, Hercules. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"A whooole shit load of stuff," John remarked, sitting upright in the chair then leaned back.

Hercules rolled his eyes. "Dammit John, I love you, but man you gotta shut your mouth sometimes," he scowled then smiled at Laf. "Anytime, man. Hey, bring the kid by sometime, I'd like to meet the guy."

"I will," he looked down at John, "John... probably won't remember this and I feel bad that I am happy about that." He laughed, "Well, I should get going. I don't want to leave him for too long."

"Alright man, see ya, take care!" Here said and John waved his arm obnoxiously, giving his version of goodbye.

"Au revoir!" And with that, he went back out the door and mounted his horse to ride back to the camp... He didn't even have a clue what was waiting for him.


	2. Losers Weepers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Howe is an ass and Laf let... somethings get to his head.

Lafayette walked quietly towards his tent, content with his findings. He expected to see Oliver fast asleep and he'd be able to check over his plan, but his heart stopped when he took a step inside. Immediately, he drew his sword.

"Oh, hello Lafayette." Howe said, acting slightly surprised, the two candles that lit the room showed his features and his stern eyes. "You're back late." He eyes the clothes, "Doing a little shopping?"

"Wh-what do you want?" he mentally cursed himself for stuttering. He kept his sword raised and held the clothes closer to his chest.

"Probably put the sword down. After all, I am your superior." He said rudely, and lightly tossed the apple in his hand. "You know, I was just coming by to see your oh so special plans, and I came across something so much more interesting." He said, and nodded at the sleeping Oliver. "Who's the boy, boy?"

Reluctantly, he lowered his sword, "None of your d-damn business!" He snapped, but his voice wasn't above a whisper, wanting to let Oliver sleep.

He rolled his eyes. "Well it has now. After all everyone thinks you are so perfect, following the rules to a T, and 'Yes, your Excellency' this, and 'Yes, your Excellency,' that." He scowled, then watched him with a dry chuckle. "But here is the pet now, breaking a rule."

"…" He went silent; His eyes burned with rage but his body shook in fear of what would be of the child. "Don't touch him.”

He tilted his head. "Now why would I want to touch the urchin?" He asked with a snort. "Oh no, I want something else. This.” He said, pointed down to a battle strategy. "It's perfect. Flawless. It will be mine, and I'll present it as my own. And you won't fuss or tell anyone." He said slowly, glaring at the man. "Because if you do," he started, his eyes slowly glanced over to the boy, and then back to Lafayette. "Well… you're a smart boy. Lets just hope it doesn't come to that."

He opened his mouth then closed it. He didn't think he could hate a man on his own side so much. "Of course… sir." he said with more venom than a Belcher’s sea snake.

His lips curled into a bitter scowl, slowly standing, and took the paper and the map, slowly walking up from behind the table then passed Lafayette, then stopped. "Oh, and don't be surprised if I have you do anything else." He added nonchalantly, somewhat amused, then left.

"Sick bastard," he muttered, settling into his chair. He glanced at the sleeping child with a sad smile. He was going to protect this boy, no matter what.

-

It was morning, and the chirping birds and the warm sunlight slowly woke up the small Oliver. He rubbed his sleepy blue eyes and yawned, sitting up on the cot and looked around, then saw Lafayette sleeping on the chair. He slowly got off the bed and just picked up one of the letters trying to read it.

Lafayette opened one eye, glancing at the boy with a smile. Noticing the frustrated expression on his face, he spoke, "Parles-tu francais?"

Oliver gave a small surprised gasp, not noticing he was awake and gave a slow nod. "Je peux, mais très peu. Alors... lises-tu les lettres des autres pour le plaisir ou...?" he laughed, standing up to stretch.

"Parfois.." He mumbled with a shrug. "Je lisais..pour mon gardien," he said, a little slowly. "Il traduirait des choses.." Oliver skimmed over the letter again, "Il connaissaint beaucoup de langues.."

"I see..." he was about add more, but he realized how high the sun was, "Sh- Mer- AAA" He tried not to swear, in either language, as he scrambled to pull on his coat. "I have a meeting this morning, don't get into trouble! Au revoir!" Aaaand he was gone.

He ran to the tent as fast as he could and entered panting. "J-je suis desole- I'm sorry for... b-being late..." He blushed red when he noticed the looks he was getting.

The generals were all puzzled at his sudden entrance. "Lafayette, it's alright." General Washington said with a light smile. "Did you bring a battle plan to present?"

"I um-" he took a wary glance at Howe but quickly snapped his gaze back to Washington. "No," he spoke more quietly after, "sir." He took his seat without another word and could practically hear Howe's smile.

Howe couldn't feel more smug, but he didn't show it at all. Washington seemed confused. Lafayette was always so eager and had plans right off the bat. Maybe he was just tired? Anyways, Washington knew it was probably none of his business and he should stay out of it. "Alright, resume discussion, Howe," he said and the man cleared his throat, giving a look at Lafayette and then resumed the topic of 'his' plan.

Lafayette had to use one of his old habits, which he knew Washington hated, but Washington was focused on ‘Howe's’ plan, so he just kept going. Quite honestly, his nails in his arm was the only thing keeping him from blowing up on Howe… that and the thought of Oliver…

"Well General Howe, I'm impressed!" Washington said, as the discussion concluded. "We'll use this plan, and deploy in a few days. Agreed? You're dismissed, gentlemen." He said to his officers and then they all left.

He released his arm from his death grip and went to the mess hall to bring Oliver breakfast. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw General Howe speaking with soldiers and the way he looked so joyful and energetic made his blood boil.

General Howe watched Lafayette go back into his tent and his lips tightened, thinking about the young boy inside. Oliver was still in the tent, making little shapes with the letters, folding them up and creasing the sides.

"Guess who brought breakfast?" He mused as he made his way over to the desk, "What are you making?"

Oliver looked up from the desk and gave a little smile at the food tray, then looked down at his little shapes. "I was making little shapes… th-this is for you, sir," he said, shyly offering an intricate triangle that he made.

He stared at the triangle in awe. "C'est tres beau, Oliver!" He lifted it in his hands to examine the shape.

"Merci!" He said and eyed the food, and gladly chowed down, making sure to take small bites.

His mind wandered as he stared down at the shape. What would happen to Oliver if he was sent back to town? What did Howe have in store for Oliver? What did he have in store for him..?

There was a sudden knock at the tents curtain door flap. Oliver froze, and was about to scram but the curtain opened, and he hid behind Laf’s legs. "Hello, Lafayette. I just wanted to say thank you for the plans. It went well." Howe said with a condescending smirk. "Where's the urchin?" He asked, and Oliver quivered.

"Don't call him that," he growled. "What do you want now?" He made sure that Oliver was safely tucked behind him.

Oliver gently grasped onto the back flaps of Lafayette's jacket and kept quiet. "Well, I just thought of something else I might like from you. After all, getting Washington's faith in me restored, I just want more." He shrugged.

"More… what?" he asked carefully, his hand moving behind him to rub Oliver's head. 'How dare this man barge in here and scare him like that,' he thought.

"…Oh, there he is." Howe said with distaste, eyeing the small figure behind the other officer and Oliver tried to make himself smaller. "What I mean is, is that you want to keep your little secret, you'll do what I say."

"…Yes sir," he responded coldly as a sick feeling twisted in stomach. He wasn't sure if it was hunger or fear of what Howe was planning. "What do you want..?"

"Well," he started. "I would like your battle plans from here on out and-" he continued, clicking his tongue as he thought. Oliver slowly peeked out from behind Laf, but only just slightly. "Oh, I know. I don't think you should be the favorite anymore. Nor do any of the rest of the officers. It's honestly disgusting, the way Washington admires you," he scowled.

"And what do y-you want me to do about that? I can't just tell him I don't want him to be m-" he cut himself off and shuddered. Using the word 'father' in front of Howe seemed… wrong.

"Or maybe you can," He said slyly, staring down at him. "I want you to tell him exactly how much you hate him. How you don’t like how he dotes upon you- It’s simply really."

"I…" he felt tears burning the back of his eyes. For Oliver… "A-alright… I'll do it." If this was the cost, so be it.

"Oh..?" Howe honestly was stunned. "I'm surprised at you, not. You'd risk your relationship- or whatever the hell you both have, for that little runt that you just met yesterday?"

"He's not a runt," the word 'runt' came out more like a bark. He had his hands clenched into fist so tight his knuckles were white and his hands were shaking. "Must I do it right away? My plans may not be as well post to… that…"

Howe waved his hand. "Take all the time you need. It won't matter to me. But this boy must be real special to you if you're willing to walk through literal hell for him." He said curtly, and gave a snobbish goodbye and left. Oliver teared up and sniffled.

Lafayette roughly wiped the tears in his eyes as if to act like they weren't there. He looked down at Oliver and lifted him into his arms to hug him. "Don't cry, everything is going to be fine. I promise."

He choked back a sob and shook his head vigorously. "N-Non… don't do this t-to yourself, sir… I'm not worth it!"

"Shhh… You are worth it… You've must have had such a hard life. I just want you to be happy," he sat down on the bed and rubbed his back gently.

His small body shook a little as he rested against the other and lightly sniffled. "…I'm gonna leave… you won't have to do that stuff for that bad man… " he managed to get out of Lafayette’s grip and booked it out the hole under the desk.

"Wait Oliv-" he reached out to grab his sleeve and missed. Panic rushed through him as he hurried outside but couldn't see him. "Bon sang," he cursed and ran off to find Hercules, knowing the parlor was closed and he was on camp. Or at least hoping he was on camp.

Herc was talking to a group of soldiers and glanced over them, seeing Laf running straight for them and he stepped out of the group. "Laf? Man, what's up?" He asked him.

"I lost the kid! Howe was being as asshole, as usual, and then Oliver ran off and oh mon dieu Herc if someone catches him I don't even know what's going to happen so you have to help me Herc I'm so... s-so inquiet pourquoi je ne me suis pas déplacé plus vite-" His fast pace rant was cut off by Hercules raising a hand to tell him to stop.

Herc rolled his eyes slowly. "Jesus, man..." He swore. "I love ya, but you gotta stop with the French. Welcome to the colonies, we don't speak French. And what do you mean he RAN off? Man, if he's smart, he would've left camp. Did you tell him about any places? Hideouts? He might've went there."

"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE A GENIUS!" He exclaimed, pulling Hercules into a hug, "Thank you so much but I got to go find him now BYE!" He managed to say that all in one breath then took off in the other direction. Hercules simply shook his head as the Marquis ran, smiling fondly.

Oliver was sitting by the river, a small creek that was behind the tree Laf once told him to go. Should he just go back to the city? No way. People didn't like him there. Should he go back to Laf?… The camp didn't like him either. Oliver sniffled as he picked up one of the cool stones from the side of the river and then skid it on the water.

"Oliver?" He called after he made it to the other side of the river. "Oliver please come back!"

Oliver ignored him. He didn't know what was worse. He honestly thought Lafayette was stupid. Why would he take in a boy, while being blackmailed, and STILL keep him? He had only met Laf a day ago, and he probably would just travel upriver to the next town.

"Oliver?!" He called out again, over and over as he walked through the woods. Soon he stopped yelling, standing by a tree, unknowingly, near Oliver and swung his fist at it. "DAMMIT!" he cried out before sinking to the ground. "God damn you Howe. That boy deserved so much and... and..."

Was this how Washington felt when he ran off that one time? No, there was something else inside of him. "I'm... hahaha..." he giggled, almost like a maniac. "I'm going to kill him-" He stood and drew his sword, "I'm going to kill you Howe!" His body shook with laughter and a murderous, but at the same time playful look in his eyes. "I'm going to make you burn in hell, and I'll follow you there! You hurt a child... how twisted…"

Oliver heard the words and swallowed dryly. That wasn't the Lafayette that rescued him. It was someone else. Maybe he was right to run away. As he slowly got up, he went to start walking away and suddenly his foot snagged on a rope, the rope constricted around his ankle and tugged. Oliver yelped in pain, and was panicking, trying to break free.

Unaware of the distress the lost boy was in, Lafayette grinned like loon, making his way back to camp.

This was may be... eventful.

Or would it?


	3. I Know Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two crisises are diverted, but another one comes up to bat.

There were other men that quickly went to the trap, and took the boy. Oliver was so scared that he couldn't run away, the men were to strong and he'd have to be smart and not try to run. He was taken into the camp, and since Washington was still in a meeting they tied the rope to a tree. Oliver was trying to find Laf in the range of his sight, and when he couldn't he teared up and lightly sniffled.

"Quit crying, you British brat!" The man that was guarding him hissed, kicking Oliver in the side and he fell over with a small yelp, holding his side. After the meeting was over, one of the men stepped inside, telling the news, and Washington ordered for the boy to be brought in and he was basically dragged in by the rope because he wasn't being fast enough.

Lafayette ran to the tent where the meeting was held in search of General Howe. "Your Excellency, have you se-" he froze when he saw Oliver. "Uh.…"

Oliver thought he was going to have a heart attack soon. "Have I seen who?" Washington asked, a little tense because of the 'spy' in the room.

"General… Howe, sir. Wh-what do we have here?" He walked next to Washington so he could see Oliver's face.

Oliver was going to step forward, but was kicked down by one of the guards. "Stay down, boy!" He scolded and Washington held his hand up.

Lafayette glared sharply when the officer kicked him and almost went over to kick the man himself, but he didn't.

"That is not necessary! He is no threat to me, I can already tell. You're dismissed." Washington said sternly, and the man left without a fuss. "What is your name son..?" He asked, a little bit more kinder, Oliver slowly got up, still holding his side a little.

"Oliver, sir.."

"No last name?"

"I don't remember.." He mumbled.

"Sir, how do you know the boy is British? Or even a spy? You know young boys like the thought of gaining glory in the war, so it shouldn't be a surprise to find one in the woods near the camp!" Lafayette tried his best to defuse the situation.

Washington eyed Lafayette, curious to why he was so quick to defend the boy. "Well..from my understanding, the British have started to recruit young. How old are you, son?" He asked and Oliver shrugged, keeping his head low.

"I don't know sir..I-I think 8.."

Washington leaned back in his chair, getting stiff. "I see… Well, if what you are saying is true, Lafayette, can you prove it?"

"I-I uh..." What could he possibly say? "What if... he's French? I've heard of many tales of younger boys stowing away on ships. I did so myself, sir, as you know."

Washington's lip tightened. "That may be true.." He said slowly. "Look at me, son. If you want fairness, you should be able to look at me in the eye and tell your story." Oliver stiffened and slowly looked up, facing the man, giving a small look of fear at Laf.

The Frenchman stiffened as well, "Sir… he's obviously sh-shaken by this situation…"

Washington looked up at Lafayette. "No matter what age, I need to treat each one the same. Perhaps no punishment will come to this. I've been told he was searched and nothing was found on him."

"Sir, I'll bring him back to town to find his parents. I think the boy has learned his lesson!" Lafayette was getting a bit impatient, but at the time more fearful.

Oliver tensed slightly, staring at Lafayette. "Hm… very well. Oliver, consider this your warning. These are dangerous times, and we can never be too careful. Lafayette, be sure he gets home safely."

"Yessir!" He saluted and proceeded to lead Oliver out of the tent. Outside he sighed, smacking Oliver lightly in the back of the head, "Never give me a heart attack like that again. I was so worried about you... I almost dueled Howe for putting you in danger like that…"

Oliver gave a small squeak at the sudden hit, stumbling a little but kept himself together. "A th-thousand apologies, sir.." He whimpered, wrapping his little arms around his own chest as they walked.

He sighed, "I'm not mad, I was just scared... I'll have to take you to town and I'll bring you back tomorrow to avoid suspicion.”

"I-Is there anywhere specific you're gonna put me, sir..?" He asked him, gently grabbing Laf’s hand because he liked holding it.

Lafayette rubbed his thumbs over the little boy’s knuckles, thinking for a moment. "I do have one place in mind," he said as he lifted Oliver onto Tonnerre, "I think you'll be safe there. But you can't mention me keeping you at camp." He mounted and the pair rode off. He looked up at the house with a sad smile, knowing what he would have to do soon…

Oliver looked around at the bustling city as they rode to it. He stared up at the complex and walked behind Laf and the door opened when he knocked the door. "Hello..? Oh, Gilbert!!" Martha beamed, Oliver hid behind him as the woman immediately went up to Laf and hugged him close, kissing his cheek over and over. "How wonderful to see you, dear!"

He laughed as he got smothered with kissed, "It's great to see you too, Mama. I hope you don't mind that I brought a guest..." He held Oliver's hand as he stepped to the side, revealing Oliver.

"A guest?" She questioned, then saw Oliver and smiled warmly down at him. "Hello, dear." She said kindly, kneeling down to his height. "My name is Martha Washington. What is your name?" She asked sweetly and his eyes were wide with shock, meeting the most famous woman in the southern states.

“O-Oliver..Miss Martha Washington..." He said, bowing his head. "You're very beautiful," he mumbled shyly and she laughed lightly.

“I see you've picked a charmer, son." She teased at Lafayette.

Lafayette chuckled, "I guess I did." He hesitated for a moment, "I was wondering if he could stay here tonight? He got stuck in a trap for spies in the woods and Washington sent him back home with me, but apparently his parents are in the next town over.... I'll bring him tomorrow."

“Of course! It would be a pleasure. Will you be staying too?”

He glanced at the clock. If he left now, maybe he'd be able to write two strategies. "No thank you, I actually have to get going. Stay safe, mon petit renard." He gave Oliver a quick hug.

Oliver hugged him back and waved. "Salute!"

"Take care, Mama," Laf said then he gave Martha a kiss on the cheek before heading out to the door.

Martha hugged him as well, giving a kiss on the forehead. "Be careful, son. Tell George I said hello," she said and brought Oliver inside, closing the door.

"I will!" he called as he mounted the stallion once more. He returned to his tent and studied the map. They had new information from Hercules of the whereabouts of the nearby British camp, so a plan was in order.

-

In the morning, Oliver had been taken back to the camp. He enjoyed staying with Miss Martha, even though she was a bit too smothering. When he came back, Martha gave him a small toy soldier for him to have on his way back. He loved it a lot, and always kept it with him. Since it was early, he did a little exploring before the camp woke up, looking around all the trees and bushes, then went back into Laf's tent and sat down, playing with the toy doll.

Lafayette was half asleep when Oliver came back from exploring. He snapped awake when he heard the soft creak of the toy. "Did Martha give that to you?" he queried softly, losing tension when he noticed the boy.

Oliver gave a small smile and nodded. "Yes, sir. She is a nice lady." He responded and footsteps were heard coming to the curtain and Oliver quickly ran out the tent flap and waited there.

"Hello, boy. Already awake, I see?" General Hoe jeered, sliding through the tent’s entrance.

"Morning, general," he returned rather sarcastically. "Here for the plan I presume?"

"You are correct." He answered and scanned the room. "So you did get rid of the rat, hm? Good for you." He said, but with pretending being pleased.

He growled, "Just take the damn plan and get out." Lafayette pushed the papers into his arms with a sharp glare.

He gave him an intimidating glare. "I wouldn't get testy with me, Lafayette. After all, you do what I say. Your secret is still valid. Oh. And yes, I heard about the little encounter with the spy trap. Washington told me you took him back to the town." He stated.

"S-so? That doesn't mat-" his stomach growled viciously and he felt the heat rise to his face.

The taller man saw the fault in him and he gave a curt chuckle. "Oh I see. You took him back there but… he’s back?" He asked, and shook his head. "Oh, my...Washington would hate to have you disrespect an order AND disown him in all one day!"

"W-wait! You said there was no set time!" He couldn't do this today; he had just had a heart attack yesterday.

He gave a small shrug. "Oh well, things change. Do you think I'm an idiot? If I didn't set a date then you wouldn't ever do it." He sneered.

"Well give me until dinner at least... That isn't exactly a very easy thing to say," he said slowly, clenching his fist to resist the urge to strangle the man. "And why do think Oliver is still here? My hunger and him have no relation." Lafayette rolled his eyes.

Hoe rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. There is no way you left him there. You aren't that kind of man." He sneered. "Well, enough of that. I have news for you that you might care to now, so pay attention. Washington is going back into the city to visit his wife. I would doubt that he wouldn't forget to bring his SON along." He said bitterly.

His heart almost stopped, "I-I..." He stammered, unsure of how to respond. He would have to leave Oliver alone, but how would he get food? Maybe he could make an excuse to come back early or had forgotten something to bring Oliver food.

"Pardon? Are we going to have a problem, boy?" He asked rudely. "You know, it honestly doesn't matter. Just think, you can be the son they have always wanted. One. Last. Time." He jeered and gave a dry chuckle, exiting. "Have a good day.”

'One. Last. Time.' Lafayette processed the words for a moment before letting out a small sob, bending at the waist and covering his mouth as the tears slid down his cheeks rapidly. 'One. Last. Time.'


	4. One Last Time

Oliver slowly slipped into the tent and he gently tugged on Lafayette's jacket flap, holding his toy soldier in the other. "Sir..? Are you okay?"

He jumped a little, trying to wipe the tears in his eyes, "Oui... b-but I will have to leave f-for a-" he hiccuped, "a little while..."

He gently wrapped his small arms around Lafayette's leg. "I..don't want you to leave, sir..."

He sobbed harder, "I-I don't want to l-leave you either... I really don't..."

"H-How many days..??"

"Only one, I'll g-get you breakfast right now though, alright?" He calmed himself, not wanting Oliver to cry as well.

Oliver lightly sniffed, and kept holding onto his leg. "I'll miss you sir.."

He smiled sadly, "I'll miss you too s- O-Oliver..." He almost slipped up his words and his stomach growled again.

"Are you okay, sir?" He asked him, looking up from him. "I'll be okay… I’ve been in worse situations."

"I'm... I'm fine, and I hope you will be too. Now, do you want breakfast or not?" he chuckled a little, ruffling Oliver's hair.

Oliver tried to smile for him, but he couldn't. "You can have it, sir...I don't feel like eating right now," he said politely and slowly pulled away, then poked at his toy.

"Oliver... I've eaten-" Lying to a child, wow Laf, "-already. I'll go get you something to eat." He didn't wait for a response, and instead left to get the food.

Oliver crawled up in the cot and lightly sniffled, rubbing at his slightly teary eye and hugged his toy close. He didn't want Laf to leave.

He returned with the tray and placed it on the desk then pulled Oliver into a hug, "I will be back, you know that. Now eat before the food gets cold."

He hugged his arms around Laf’s neck and held on. "Yes sir..." He mumbled, hesitantly, and slowly got off the cot and walked over to the chair, and jumped up, sitting down, and just stared at the food blankly.

"Oliver..? Are you alright?" he asked, noticing his hesitance towards the food. Lafayette tried to ignore the sharp pain growing in his stomach.

"I'm sorry sir..but I-I’m just not hungry.." He mumbled and lightly pushed the plate forward. "You should eat it..! You'll need to have all your strength for your trip..!"

"...Are you sure? Like I-I said I already ate before I came to get you so..." he played with the blankets on the cot with his fingers.

"Sir please… I want you to have it, okay?" Oliver said and pushed the tray toward him.

He sighed, "If you at least eat some of it, then yes, I will."

Oliver gave a slow nod, taking the fork and slowly ate.

He smiled softly, leaning on a pole holding up the tent in the corner of the cot. He sat there for a moment, closing his eyes and content that the boy was eating, and slowly fell asleep.

Oliver made sure he only ate enough for him, and save the rest. Then he slid the plate up. "Sir? I'm d-" He stopped, seeing his caregiver asleep, and Oliver kept quiet, walking over to the cot and took off the wool blanket, and then put it over the man.

Lafayette awoke to his stomach trying to eat him from inside out. He groaned, curling in on himself but the pain didn't subside. He groaned again, this time mixed with some sort of whimper. He knew he must be leaving soon, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to move.

Oliver was busy playing with the little markers on the battle map, and noticed that Lafayette was waking up. "Hello, sir… are you feeling better? You looked really tired,"

He hummed in confusion of who was speaking then looked up lazily out of his little ball, "I'm... bien now, mon p-petit ren-" He was cut off by another surge of pain. "Pardon moi mais... quelle... what time is it?"

Oliver walked over and cuddled up next to him, looking at the small clock on the table. "It's… almost noon, sir."

"Merde-" he started to stand, but winced and sat back down. "Excuse my language...s, but I will need to leave soon... I'm sorry."

Oliver nodded slowly and watched him. "Where are you going, sir?" He asked, curiously.

"Just to visit Mrs. Washington with the commander, son." He didn't realize his slip up as he stood, finally, and pulled on his coat.

Oliver paused, hearing the slip up, but not knowing what to say, he chose to let it escape his mind. "Visiting Miss Washington..?" He asked, a little more upset because now he really wanted to go.

"Yes, and I wish you could come but if the general sees you..." he trailed off, "Also, I have something to say t-to them." 'One. Last. Time.'

Oliver nodded, understanding. "Okay..do you need help packing for your trip, sir?"

"No, I will not be there long. In fact, I might be back in a few hours."

Oliver tilted his head. "Really? I figured you'd stay over night.”

He tried to smile, but it wavered and faded, "Well, things may happen and cause my return to be early."

Oliver wanted to be happy that he was returning home early, but something was off. "Sir… are you gonna be okay?"

"Yes yes, but I should off now," he hugged Oliver gently, ignoring his own trembling, "Be safe, please, and you know where to run if someone comes."

Oliver nodded with a smile and hugged the man back, holding onto him as long as he could. "Please be safe to, sir."

"I will," he told him, now moving to the tent flaps. With one last smile, he made his way to Washington's tent....

 

One last time…

 

Oliver waved goodbye, and decided to take a nap.

Meanwhile, in the commander’s tent, Washington was finishing up a few correspondents, signing his HancoCK for the 20th time.

"Sir?" Lafayette knocked on the tent flap once, waiting for confirmation to enter.

George waved his hand. "Come in, come in," he mumbled, signing his HanCOcK once again. "Hello son, I'm just finishing these papers before we leave. So many people need so many approvals," he grumbled.

Lafayette sighed, "You are the commander, Papa." He flinched at the word Papa, knowing soon he would no longer be able to use that. Thankfully Washington wasn’t facing him.

"That may be true but," he organized the rest of the papers. "I need a supervisor who can at least HELP me with these," he said and glanced up at Laf, taking his glasses off. "Would you want to..?" He suggested.

That would bring him closer to Washington. He couldn't get closer to Washington. "I'll... consider it... sir,” he didn't want to call him Papa again that day. It felt wrong, “but we should get going if you don't want the missus to be upset."

Washington gave a light chuckle and nodded. "You are very right about that." He said and stacked the papers on his desk, trying to make it neat. "Alright son, let's go, I'd like to get there a little bit before supper," he said, walking out of the tent with his cloak.

He followed in tow, not saying a word. His mind raced with ways to break the news, enough for him to not even notice that they were approaching the house.

George knocked on the door and after a few moments, Martha answered the door. "Oh, it's my boys!" She exclaimed and happily hugged her small arms around them and George gave a hearty chuckle and kissed her.

Lafayette smiled at their affection and couldn't suppress a laugh. "It's good to see again, even if it's been," he glanced at the clock inside, "4 hours."

"4 hours?" Washington questioned.

"Oh, yes! Gilbert came by earlier with a little guest of his and I took care of him while he went back to your campsite. Then he came to take the boy back," She explained and Washington blinked.

"...Oh! I-I think I left m-my uh- Um... thing... Yes, my thing at camp! I better go get th- AH!" He tried to run back to his horse, only to shriek as Washington grabbed the back of his collar when he had went.

"Son," he said sternly. "So you took the boy back to town, but then brought him BACK into the camp?" He asked, his temper rising.

Martha put a hand on his shoulder. "George, your blood pressure." She reminded him in a soft voice.

"You know the rules, Martha! No women or children allowed in the camps!"

"I uh- He's in the next t-town over s-sir... with his family! Th-they said they'd be returning to the Southern st-states today..." His body was trembling with fear. Not only that, but he had to drop connections with them today as well…

Martha's heart dropped, realizing she should’ve kept her mouth shut about the boy, but didn't know it was such a bad thing. "L-Listen, the both of you! The matter has been resolved, and I will not let this small bickering to spoil our supper. Now, come along, it should be ready," she said, and brought them along, George didn't say a word, but knew she was right.

He could practically taste Washington's disappointment, and realized this was the right time... But he couldn't bring himself to say the words. Instead, he made an excuse to slip into his room and didn't wait for any response. He ran to his room and locked the door, then began to write. After much sobbing and many crumbled, abandoned, and tear soaked papers later, he finally wrote one he thought would suffice.

Washington and his wife sat down at the table and Martha sighed softly. "What is it, dear?" Washington asked.

Her eyes lingered on her plate, "I… wish you weren't so hard on our son for what he did. He wants to protect this boy, I can tell."

George stiffened, "Be less harsh? I don’t understand. Martha, the boy has a family, Lafayette has clearly stated that."

Martha's lip tightened. "But what if it’s not a good family, George..? You know exactly what I mean. I worry about him… he’s so small." With that, George fell silent, finding new interest in the wall.

-

Lafayette reread every single copy he wrote, including the good one, and left them all on the desk. They all told of how it wasn't their fault, and they did nothing, but it was his. Each one had a different way of showing of how much Lafayette despised himself in every way, shape and form, but only the good copy, that sat apart from the rest, didn't, for he remembered who Martha told him not to. Every copy of the letter was unneat and all the words that spoke of disowning were written in a way that made them sound untruthful, like he didn't really want to, except for the good copy, in which the words flowed well. Every copy of the letter was left on the desk, set slightly apart from the good copy, and Lafayette knew it was foolish to leave them there, but he didn't care.

He had a flashback of him crying and writing the same night Martha and George offered for him to be their son... that made the situation hurt worse. Quietly, he crept down the stairs to sneak outside. Once he saw Washington catch his gaze from the dining room, he booked it out the door, away from the yelling voice, the footsteps and pleas, and onto his horse. He rode back to camp…

George chased after him, but only to slowly give up as he rode off quickly on the horse. "George! George!!" Martha cried out as she ran, a little bit slower than George and held onto his arm. "Where did he go!? WHY did he go?" She said frantically, looking up and down the street.

"I… I don't know, Martha.." He mumbled, looking the way he went, with a hopelessness he normally didn’t have, “I don’t know...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... I'm sorry for the hancock thing.... and the shitty ending to the chapter.
> 
> I'm sorry for writing this.


	5. Disowned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: Abuse mentioned in this chapter**
> 
> If you do not want to read this chapter because of the warning: Essentially Martha and George find the note and Howe is angered by the faulty plan Lafayette gave him, so he sent men after Oliver.

"He obviously didn't leave for no reason... do you think he's upset about earlier?" George asked, walking Martha back towards the house.

She held her hands to her chest and sighed. "Oh Gilbert wouldn't do that," Martha walked up the stairs then stopped. "I don't understand it..George was I wrong to take him in so fast like that? When he came by earlier, he seemed sad."

George nodded, "Well.... maybe he found something that made him uncomfortable? Maybe he was thinking about his family." He started to go upstairs towards the boy's room, wanting answers for Lafayette sudden exit. "He looked like he had been crying when he took off."

"N-no, George! WE are his family now!" She said stubbornly. "I will not let such a bright boy not have a family when he is so young! That old family of his..they are dead, dear." She went into the room with her husband and her eyes went wide, seeing all of the scattered papers.

"What..?" Hesitantly, he walked towards the desk and started to read one of the papers, three sentences in and he felt a vice grip on his throat.

She noticed the uncomfortable silence from him and walked up to. He was taller than she was so she tried to read it the best she could. "Dear, what is it..?" She asked.

"Why... wh-why does it sound like he didn't mean it..?" That was all he said as he picked up another paper and scanned the words.

Martha quickly grasped the paper from him and read it, and put a hand over her mouth, her heart crushing into pieces. "I..o-oh god.." She whimpered a tear falling down her cheek.

George embraced his wife and consoled her, but still read the letters in his hand. He wasn't sure what hurt worse- His wife sobbing, the hateful words Lafayette wrote about himself, the fact he DISOWNED them... or all the signs on the letters that the Frenchman didn't mean what he wrote... "It's going to be alright... I promise."

She shook her head, leaning against him weakly. "No..No it won't, George! Gilbert is such a nice boy..why would he do this to us!?" She asked, almost hysterical.

"There has to be a reason... there was to be..." he gently rocked the heartbroken woman and let the gears in his mind turn as to why the kind Frenchman would leave them.

 

Meanwhile…

It was almost dark out, and it was silent in the Major’s tent. One final blow went to the small boy’s shoulder, and he let out a small whimper, hot tears streamed his face as one man’s hand was clamped tightly over the smaller boy’s mouth, keeping him from screaming or calling for help. "Look, we done here?" The man asked, holding the branch that he used to beat him with.

"Psh, yeah I guess." The other scowled and threw Oliver to the ground, and his head hit the side of the desk, and he landed on the ground. His breathing was slow, and it hurt to do anything.

Lafayette was walking towards his tent sluggishly when he saw two men leave his tent... with a bloody branch. He assumed the worst and started to chase after them with his sword. They got out of sight, to Laf's frustration, and he swiftly returned to the tent. "Oliver? Oliver are you al- OLIVER?!" he cried, kneeling down by the beaten boy. Oliver could barely speak, his throat hurt and his eyes were reddish and watery.

"Oh m- I- I'm so-... I'll get you help.... I promise, just keep breathing, son... " He whispered, racing to Alex's tent, in which Hercules and John were as well.

With the guys, John nearly fell out of his chair at the sudden intrusion. "D-dude, KNOCK first!!" He exclaimed, but Alexander saw how distraught Laf looked and he stood from his chair.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"They- th-they beat him- they beat the poor boy and it's all my fault and oh mon dieu, je l'ai laissé seul, mais il a besoin d'aide s'il vous plaît, aidez mon garçon, s'il vous plait-" He spoke rapidly before breaking down in sobs.

All three of them stood up, Herc brought his first aid kit and told Laf to take him to the tent and they went in. Oliver didn't move from where he was, just lightly pawing at the ground, with little strength he had in him. "Holy hell.." Hercules breathed, and immediately kneeled down and did what he could without trying to move him so much.

"Howe... Howe did this..." the Frenchman muttered, backing away from the group a little.

"He..WHAT?!" John yelled and Alex quickly told him to keep his voice down. "How do you know, Laf?"

"I... He..." he lowered his head and laughed. "He can not get away with this... He WILL NOT get away with this..." With that on his mind, he started to leave the tent.

Alex grabbed his shoulder and tugged him back. "No, you don't have your head on straight right now. You are going to stay with the kid and wait till he's better," he said firmly.

"S..sir..." Oliver croaked out, his small hand reaching out, not being able to move his head, so he couldn’t find him.

His heart broke at the sight of him, "Oliver... I... I'm so sorry for this." He gave Oliver's hand a small squeeze. "I'm sorry for what I have to do; but this can't slid. I can’t."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> '-oh my god, I left him alone, but he needs help please, help my boy, please-'


	6. Conceded

He was furious. No-

He was beyond furious.

He was livid.

The next day, after he was sure Oliver wounds were wrapped and he was sound asleep, Lafayette stormed through the camp fuming, and every soldier stepped out of his way, whispering quietly in wonder of the cause of anger from the normal happy general. "Howe!" he barked when the fellow officer was in sight.

Hoe heard his name and glanced over his shoulder, seeing Laf walking to him in a fury storm and sighed. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he said and turned towards Lafayette.

The Frenchman grabbed him by the collar to pull them face to face and his sword's point was pointed at Howe's throat. Lafayette then pointed his sword at a hill in the distance. "There," the sword returned to his throat, "dawn. Blades drawn..." he kept his voice low so men behind Hoe couldn't hear, but he knew they most likely knew what he was doing. There was a beat of silence and that cruel smirk Lafayette hated curled on the taller man's lips.

Hoe chuckled lightly and shook his head. "Be careful what you say, boy. Have you forgotten what position you're in?" He asked slyly, keeping still as he watched the sword out of the tunnel vision of his eyes.

"You beat a child. A **child.** I don't fucking care what you have against me, I can't just let that be!" he growled, the sword pushing a little more.

"Beat a child? Me?" He asked, pretending to be offended, realizing that they were having unwanted attention. "It was not me who did it."

"You may have not done it with your own hands, but sure as hell do I know you sent them!"

"But you could never prove that, now can you?" He  jeered, stepping forward, even though the sword was close to his chest. "You were getting out of the comfort zone I set for you. And you were sent a warning."

"Beating a kid is a **_warning?!_ ** You sick, twisted..." he trailed off, also noticing the attention they were getting. He lowered his voice, "Then let's duel to settle this once and for all, shall we?"

Howe gave a curt smile. "Suits me fine."

Suddenly Washing-machine came out from his tent, and saw Lafayette and glared at him. "Stay that sword, Lafayette!" He ordered. He had been hurt, but he had to keep his cool, and be the commander.

Laf jumped at the sudden voice, but immediately did as ask. "Yessir..."

"What is going on here, Howe?" George asked him.

Hoe cleared his throat, "Well sir,  this boy has been making false accusations against me!"

There wasn't anything he could do. If he told Washington about Oliver, he'd be sent back to town. If he refuted, well, there was nothing to refute. "I did not!" he cried anyway.

"Lafayette, enough!" Washington yelled at him, and most of the men went silent, watching their commander cautiously. "Meet me in my tent. Howe, meet me later." He said sternly and then stormed into his tent. 

Lafayette shuddered and reluctantly followed Washington towards his tent. He could already hear Alex in the back of his mind saying 'I told you so' as he entered the tent.

George sighed as he slowly sat down, taking off his hat and leaned forward in his chair while facing the Marquis. "Explain yourself," he said, tiredly. He hadn't slept at all, thinking about Lafayette. Thinking about his wife.

"...There is nothing really to explain, Your Excellency... I challenged that hoe- I-I mean Howe to a duel. Simple." He prayed Washington would take that answer.

Washington scowled slightly. "Lafayette. You know my rules. I'm trying to have respectable men on my side! Dueling is not respectable!"

"I know sir," he kept his voice level but his head was spinning.

Washington’s head hung, and then ran a hand down his neck. "Lafayette… answer this question for me. I promised Martha I'd give her your response in the letter I'm going to send her soon. Why did you leave?"

He went silent for a moment, completely avoid meeting Washington's eye. "I... I don't believe I should be treated as your son, sir. With a-all do respect, you and Madame Washington are wonderful people I just- I couldn't any longer..." He let out a shaky breath, "Am I dismissed, sir?"

"No. You have wounded my wife," he stood, "and for what? Your letters make no sense whatsoever, and you leave without a word. If you didn't want to have us, then be a man and tell me yourself."

'You hurt Martha,' he winced at Washington's words in the beginning, but when he finished speaking, Lafayette couldn't stop his outburst, "Well maybe I do want you!" Instantly he regretted the words and clapped a hand over his mouth. "I... No- N-no I meant what I said." He looked him straight in the eye, removed his hand, "I meant it, Your Excellency. We can't-" dammit he was shaking, "we can't be like that anymore..."

"What do you mean? What was done is done, and you will be responsible for that. I...I don't understand why you couldn't just tell me.."

"Well geez! I'm sorry that saying 'Hey, I don't wanna be your son anymore' isn't the easiest thing to say! I'm sorry that I was much of a fucking coward to say it to your face! I'm sorry I have the inability to a respectable man. And goddammit, I might as well be sorry I exist! I'm sorry OK?! I-" He was crying, he hadn't noticed until he felt the hot tears slide down his cheeks. "I'm sorry..." He didn't want to stay any longer so he turned around to leave.

"Lafayette. I did not excuse you." He said firmly, but his voice was slightly shaky. He couldn't believe how broken Laf was. It was made obvious to Washington that Laf didn't want to do it. Maybe he was made to do it? No- that's ridiculous. "Son, listen to me. I just want to know why… have we done something that would make you not want us? Son, you've hurt me greatly. You were never ever a burden to me, and for once I felt complete because I had a family. I wanted to give you something that you've haven't had in a long time."

“Don’t call me son,” Lafayette snapped and Washington stiffened. "S-sir you've done-" he took a shaky breath, "you have done nothing wrong. This is s-simply what.... I chose to do this- I never meant to break your family." Realizing the choppiness of his sentences, he just stopped trying talk altogether. Instead he just stood there awkwardly, now facing Washington, sore, shaking and with his head pounding. He kind of wished he would have eaten the food Oliver had offered…

George watched him with caution. Slowly his eyes went down to the floor. "....Very well. I'll write your response to Martha." He said, no emotion was held in his voice.

"...A-am I dismissed  s-sir?" he stammered quickly, knowing he was moments from having a breakdown. There was no way he was going to do that in front of the man he just hurt.

"Yes." He responded, dryly. He slowly went back to his desk and sighed, staring down at the blank paper he was going to write on.

Lafayette cringed at his tone, but left the tent. He hadn't moved this fast since that ball disaster he had killed an assassin in front of everyone. _'The same night you agreed to be their son.'_ Two steps into his tent and he collapsed on the floor crying, unable to hold it in any longer.

Oliver laid on the bed, breathing still shallow but he seemed slightly more comfortable. The trio had already left, so Lafayette was left to his own thoughts.

-

Ever since the 'plan' incident, Howe had requested the plans a day early so he could check them over. That meant Laf had to write them a day early. But luckily, that gave him more of an excuse to stay in the tent with Oliver. One day that week, the sun had set and finally Oliver fell asleep on the cot and Lafayette, who had been up until some ungodly time in the morning, was asleep at his desk, hunched over 'his' battle plan.

George had thought long and hard about visiting Lafayette. Unfortunately, things were still complicated between them. But dammit, George wanted them resolved and wanted Lafayette back no matter what. He was going to grant the little Ollie full stay at the camp as long as he was under watch by Lafayette. George walked to the boys tent and knocked on the curtain post.

Lafayette jerked awake, sitting up, "Who is it?" he called, attempting to stand up but NOPE. He fell back into the chair with a grunt, completely drained. As long as it wasn't the commander, he had no reason to stand in their presence.

Washington slowly walked in, not in uniform as usual but it was early in the morning still. "Good morning, Lafayette." He said, with a slight bow to his head. He was trying so desperately to not say son, because their situation was so delicate.

The Marquis stiffened, but still kept a steady voice, "Bonne matinee, sir. Is there something you need?" His hand slowly moved to the hilt of his sword, mind racing with thoughts of their broken relationship and Washington taking Oliver. His hand tightened its grip on the hilt. None of his thoughts registered the fact that Washington would never hurt Oliver. Blame sleep deprivation and memories of Oliver’s previous beating.

"....Stay that sword. I come in peace." He said, watching the man's hand from under the desk and stepped forward. "I have come to see how the little boy and… to talk to you about him."

He knew he should stand, but he didn't exactly trust himself to. Washington wouldn't notice. "My apologizes, Your Excellency... What do you mean?" He glanced warily at the sleeping figure on the bed.

Washington took the seat that was across the desk and leaned forward. "You've...put in a great deal of your strength and courage to seeing that this child is protected. Why is that?"

"Sir he... he doesn't have a family, he hasn't seemed to have eaten in so long when I found him, and only god knows how long he has been on the street!" He paused his rant as his stomach gave a low growl. "He deserves so much better..."

"Hm..I understand." He said quietly, glancing at the boy. "Men like you are hard to find, Lafayette. Men who are made of stone and can endure anything but at the same time be kind and gentle.”

"Thank you... sir," he was unsure what else to say and shifted in his seat awkwardly.

"What would you do if I were to say that… Oliver could stay?" He thought out loud, now facing forward and looking at Laf.

"I... What?" he froze, unsure if he heard him correctly.

"What would you do if I said that Oliver could stay?" He asked again, leaning back in his chair. "As long as he doesn't become a hassle, which I doubt will happen, he can stay with you."

Lafayette's eyes brightened, this was the happiest he's been since Howe's first threat. "R-really?!" he struggled to keep his voice low.

"Yes." He responded. "I'm willing to bend this rule for you."

Before he was able to process anything properly, he leapt up to give his general a hug, "Thank you, sir! You won't regret th-" he froze. "Sh-shit- I mean merde! Wait no, that's the same thing-" he quickly let go of the man, but his legs didn't keep him for long. "My apologies, s-sir..." he wrapped his arm around his stomach and shifted his gaze away from him.

George stumbled a little, in shock at the man's sudden outburst and tried to hold him the best he could. "Of course," he said and lightly laughed at his stammering, then slowly stood. "Well, that is all I had to say. If that's all, I'll be leaving," he turned on his heel to leave.

"W-wait!" he called after him, regretting it for he was unsure if he should reveal this information now..

"Hm?" He hummed in through, turned back. "What's wrong, Lafayette?"

"I... should probably explain myself a little more than have..." he hesitated, "P-Papa..."

Washington tensed a little. "Perhaps you should..why the sudden change in my address?(he means why you callin me big daddy all of a sudden)" he asked, a little bitter.

"That comes with the explanation," he responded simply with a little smile. And so he began to explain everything: From finding Oliver to Howe's threats to the relationship change between them. "So um.... that happened."

Washington's eyes widened at the scheme that was told to him. He was angry. No, furious. No. LIVID. He almost couldn't contain his anger as it boiled through him. This man had caused so much pain towards that boy, to his son, to his wife and to himself.

Before Washington spoke, Lafayette continued, “But sir, remember, in-fighting is not respectable.”

The commander narrowed his eyes at the Major for a moment, but ended up sighing. “I… I won’t hang him… But there is no way in hell a man as… as cruel as him is working as one of my generals.” Lafayette only nodded in response, then glanced back at Oliver. Washington followed his gaze and sighed, calming down. “We’ll treat his wounds soon. For now, son, please try to sleep and go eat something. You look like you're about to pass out..” Noticing Lafayette tensing, he continued, “He will be fed as well, so do not worry.”

“...I suppose I will… Merci beaucoup,” he went silent for a moment, “Papa.”

  
Washington smiled, “Of course,” the smile then gained a darker edge, “Now… Where is General Howe?”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, you made it to the end...
> 
> Well, anyway, please don't hesitate to point out any mistakes!


End file.
